Harry's Horrible Summer
by theqwerty
Summary: Summer life with the Dursley's was terribly amusing until his Uncle abandoned him in London. While this story does follow some cliché plotlines, they each will have their own original twist.
1. Life with the Dursleys

**Harry's Horrible Summer**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because if I did, I would have to pay for the replacement staircase.

A/N: Yay! Another fanfic! This one started completely randomly and I have no idea where it's headed because I haven't planned out the plot. Things will happen as I think of them and if you want something to happen, review and I will consider it.

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Bang, Bang

"Get out of bed, lazy boy!" Harry's aunt screeched at him from the hallway, though it was a rather quiet sort of screech in an effort to let Dudley and his Uncle Vernon sleep an extra ten minutes.

Harry sighed and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He hadn't really been sleeping anyway; it was more like meditating, except without the trance thing.

Harry looked at the clock. It was 6:30 in the morning, and he blinked in surprise. The night had passed so quickly. Scrambling out of bed, he quickly dressed and ran/walked/tiptoed downstairs and started cooking breakfast. Bacon, eggs, toast, and fresh-squeezed orange juice: It all had to be ready by 7:00 promptly or he would be blamed for Dudley not making it to his summer job on time. Uncle Vernon had managed to get Dudley an internship at his company, an act that Harry was sure was illegal.

The ceiling started creaking and Harry flinched as some plaster fell down on him and into the bacon cooking on the stove. Dudley was like a bloodhound when it came to food. He could always tell when someone was cooking in the house or when there was edible food in the fridge. Harry was worried, though. Dudley's weight problem had grown worse, not better from the diet, though that might have had something to do with the candy Dudley stole from the offices at his internship.

Dudley came galloping down the stairs. The fourth step up instantly gave way.

_Bloody hell_, Harry thought, _that was wicked!_

Dudley moaned and stirred in the bloody wreckage of the staircase. Aunt Petunia came running, took a look, and started to scream. Harry plugged his ears and tried to get rid of his grin.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the top of the stairs, furious that his sleep had been interrupted, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry replied, still doing his best to keep his amusement under control. Aunt Petunia stopped screaming and called an ambulance.

"NONSENSE! IT MUST HAVE BEEN YOU AND THAT – THAT BLASTED SCHOOL OF YOURS!" Uncle Vernon shouted at Harry, unappeased.

"Magic? I didn't do anything," Harry defended himself. Uncle Vernon started to turn purple. Dudley passed out again.

"_You are NOT, under any circumstance, to use the M-word in this house. Is that clear?_" Uncle Vernon hissed at Harry his hideous, purple face glancing nervously in different directions, trying to see if any neighbors had come to watch the spectacle.

The ambulance arrived. Aunt Petunia sobbed in relief from where she was washing the blood off Dudley's head where he had banged in when the stairs collapsed.

The medical personnel brought out a stretcher and attempted to move Dudley onto it. It didn't work. Harry and Uncle Vernon had, by this time, stopped glaring at each other and were looking at Dudley, respectively, in amusement and anxiousness.

"Why the bloody _hell_ aren't you getting my son medical attention right now?" Uncle Vernon bellowed at the trained medical practitioners. One of them screwed up his courage.

"He – he doesn't fit on the stretcher," he said hesitantly.

"Well, GET A BIGGER ONE!" Uncle Vernon shouted at him and the guy promptly burst into tears. One of his peers took mercy on him and brought out another stretcher. They managed to secure both stretchers together, and, in the end, Dudley barely fit, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were satisfied. The medical people carried Dudley onto the ambulance (with three minor incidents: 1) Dudley was so heavy they almost dropped him, 2) They almost dropped him again, and, 3) Nurse Jones stepped on Uncle Vernon's foot) and started looking for signs of a concussion right away.

"There is room in the ambulance for one family member," Nurse Jones said from a safe distance away from Uncle Vernon.

"You go, Petunia," Uncle Vernon said, "I'll stay here and take care of the house repairs."

"Alright," Petunia said and sniffed, "Our Didley-dums will be fine, won't he?" She climbed into the ambulance after Nurse Jones and it sped away to the nearest hospital. Uncle Vernon turned his attention to Harry.

"Get in the cupboard _now_," he told Harry.

"Uncle Vernon? Um…there is no cupboard. The stairs collapsed on it…"

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Harry looked around the street. It was gray, dark, and muddy. A pair of gigantic trash bins sat against the back of the store. It wasn't a street, he decided, it was an alley.

Uncle Vernon had dropped Harry off in London after realizing there wasn't a cupboard, ordering Harry to go upstairs, and then realizing there wasn't any stairs.

"I don't have the time to deal with you," Uncle Vernon had told him and then shoved him in the car with his trunk.

The trunk was dented. Dudley had fallen on it. Harry wondered whether it was Dudley's foot or head that had caused the massive dent. Uncle Vernon had made Harry leave Hedwig behind. She was stuck in her cage upstairs, inaccessible. He was really worried that Uncle Vernon might try to do something to her once the stairs were fixed. He was also even more worried about her starving to death before the stairs were fixed.

What was even worse was that he didn't have his invisibility cloak. It had been under the floorboard under his bed. He had his wand, which he had been carrying around with him, but he couldn't use it due to the underage restrictions.

So, here he was, stuck in the middle of London with nothing but a wand he couldn't use and a conspicuous trunk (which would surely attract attention because most Muggles use suitcases) with no way to contact anyone or find a way into the Magical world.

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	2. London

Harry's Horrible Summer – Chapter 2 – London

Disclaimer – I don't own Harry Potter

A/N – This story has no pre-considered plot whatsoever, so, because it evolves as I write, reviews can really help me along. Also, updates will be sporadic.

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Harry sat down on the park bench, looking warily at a few other forms barely visible in the moonlight. He was sitting in a park somewhere in London. He sighed and opened his trunk. He took out a couple of robes and managed to form them into a barely passable sleeping arrangement on the bench.

He sighed. Loudly. He had no money, no map, and no way to contact the Wizarding world, not to mention the fact that it was his birthday. _Happy Birthday to me_, he thought miserably to himself. Harry grabbed the plastic bag he had found the day before. He had been staying near the park for approximately twenty-four hours now. He had scrounged through some trash bins for something edible but hadn't had much luck. All he had found was half a carton of take out noodles. He opened it up, took a few small bites, carefully rationing his food, and put it back in the plastic bag.

Harry pulled his cloak tighter around him and stared out of the park. The landscaping was worse than Aunt Petunia's garden, which was really saying something. He could hear the cars driving by outside the park – late night traffic. He was too restless too sleep so he got up, gathered his stuff, and started walking.

Harry passed through an ugly concrete and metal archway, emerging into a dimly lit deserted street. He started walking. The restaurants were closed, the trash bins full. His stomach growled (or, rather, some air passed through his intestines). Maybe he would find some food in them.

He started walking toward them. Suddenly, the street was lit up. _Am I hallucinating?_ Harry wondered. He turned and looked behind him straight into the headlights of a car. He stumbled and as his eyes started widening in realization, he quickly started running toward the side of the street. Harry apparently had some luck, but not enough, as the car kept coming towards him, the driver talking on his cell phone and not noticing the boy in his path.

The car didn't hit Harry full on but merely went over his leg with a loud screech. The driver had suddenly realized what had happened, and in fear of feeling guilt or being charged with hospital bills had continued driving down the street, speeding up until Harry could no longer have spotted the rear lights on the car if he had tried to spot them.

Harry was, in fact, not trying to look at the car. He had more pressing issues to deal with such as the fact that he had been abandoned in the park without sufficient supplies and that his leg was broken, bleeding, and, indeed, very severely injured. His eyes were clouding over in pain as he fought to keep from screaming. _I will not scream and let someone – maybe a Death Eater – know that I am here_, he told himself sternly and then laughed harshly to himself.

"Why would anyone hear me anyway? There's no one around!" Harry crawled onto the sidewalk wearily, jarring his leg more than once. He found some thin cardboard in the trash bin and fashioned it into a crutch within the next fifteen minutes, moving very, _vvveeeeerrrryyyyy _slowly. He used it to stand up and managed to find a semblance of balance. Wincing in pain, he turned around and shrieked in horror and he stared into the red eyes of …

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